Hiraeth
by ooooohehe
Summary: Alexander Gromov needs a date to a company party. Not a date, per se, but someone to keep him away from everyone else. For a few reasons, he asks Charles Snippy, who reluctantly agrees.
1. Chapter 1

Alexander's alarm goes off just as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. He slams his hand down onto the alarm and glares out at the world from underneath the blankets. With a sigh, he rises, knowing he couldn't afford to take a day off- he was too important to do so, even if it was tempting to stay in bed all day and catch up on some well-earned shuteye. He'd somehow managed three all-nighters this week, though it had resulted in making him borderline-nocturnal. It was well-worth it in the end, as his magnum opus was edging closer to omnipotence. So what if he lost a few hours of sleep in the process?

The entire process of getting ready passes in a blur as it always does, as he's too tired to remember any of the details. He was certain he'd forget the process altogether in the next hour and spend a good part of the day wondering if the morning had actually happened or been a vivid hallucination. He'd eventually deduce that it couldn't have been a hallucination because it was too boring and average.

But what does make this morning different is a reminder that strikes him while he is in the midst of making his coffee. There was a party tonight for work.

And he promised he'd go.

" Shit." Alexander mutters to himself, wide awake with the revelation. He'd almost dropped his mug.

He hated parties. Especially ones that were work-involved. Whenever he went, he always attracted a crowd of people who wanted to flirt with him. Not because they were interested in him, but rather, his money. He was a wealthy young man, and it had been so for a while now. And people knew. Everyone knew. He was practically a celebrity.

Speaking of, he had an interview coming up that he'd also forgotten about.

Oh, and…. looking at his wristwatch, he realized he was running late.

This day was off to a fantastic start, wasn't it?

* * *

He'd need a date for tonight. He was desperate. If he had a date this time, then maybe he'd be left alone. It might take any attention off of him and place it on his date, instead. Whoever that was, the poor, unfortunate soul.

It would have to be someone who definitely hadn't received an invite. Although everyone was supposed to, he knew that there were some who weren't very well-liked in the workplace. That narrowed down the list quite a bit. And he'd like someone who actually spoke to him and didn't just text him through Annet the entire time. He never thought he'd say this, but he needed a break from Annet, just for one night. It was absorbing every single aspect of his life, and he could get away for an hour or two, right? That narrowed down the list even further, because he knew that next to everyone used Annet for everything, and even he couldn't convince them to try otherwise. He just didn't want the typical glazed-over look he got from mostly everyone nowadays. It showed that they weren't interested in what he had to say, and he really wanted someone to at least pretend to care.

Even if it was only for one night.

His current standards, as low as they were, left him with very few options; all of them were unconnectable. That would certainly turn quite a few heads, wouldn't it?

And okay, maybe he wouldn't mind someone who didn't hate him and everything he stood for. Was that too much to ask? Even indifference was fine, he just wasn't looking to get murdered tonight if he so much as breathed the wrong way.

That narrowed the list down to…. One, really. A man by the name of Charles Snippy. Unconnectable. Pencil-pusher. And most definitely not invited to the party. People generally looked down upon him and tried to avoid him if they could, because, unconnectable. What other explanation did you need to alienate a person these days? People were generally wary of the unconnectables due to the terrorist organization threatening the peace. To most, it was better to avoid them altogether.

Well, that didn't matter in this predicament. He needed a date to this party. And if people knew that he was bringing an unconnectable, then it would scare quite a few away.

So that was that, then.

* * *

His days were often remarkably boring. To Charles Snippy, it felt like years had passed, when in reality, it had been a mere five minutes. It didn't help that he did the same things every day: paperwork, followed by a brief coffee break, followed by even more paperwork, then lunch, then- you guessed it- more paperwork. The monotony of it all drove him mad. There was nothing he could do to make it even remotely interesting, nothing to make the time flow quicker. Nothing at all. Just hope that nobody caught him sleeping on the job whenever he dared.

Today, though.

Today was… interesting.

It started out the same, and it really was the exact same for a few hours: same monotonous pace; same busywork; similar desire to die because even that was preferable to this.

But then someone from the higher-ups popped into his cubicle for a visit. Well, not quite. They dropped a paper onto his desk before scurrying off. They probably moved so quickly because they'd listened to all the rumors and were worried that if they got too close, they'd catch the "unconnectable disorder". Or they were worried he'd start talking to them, which was probably worse in their eyes because he was some sort of a loose cannon too, apparently; they were all probably waiting for him to start spouting off unconnectable terrorist propaganda. That sure seemed like it was what they expected him to do at this point...

Idiots. For people who prided themselves for knowing so much, they sure knew how to make themselves look stupid.

They probably didn't get out much.

He wasn't quick to read the paper. Didn't want the person thinking he actually cared about what they had to say. Just to be petty, he'd waited for them to be out of eyesight before reading it.

Which… there wasn't much to read. No more than two sentences: Meet me in my office when you get off your shift. It's important.

Signed Alexander Gromov. It was barely legible, but he knew the guy's signature when he saw it. Only he could sign something so sloppily.

Really now? If it was so important, but he hadn't had much to say in the note, then he should have just written an email. He was very much capable of reading those, contrary to popular belief.

Anyways… what was that all about? When you get off your shift? Why couldn't he have just gone now? Why the wait? He didn't get off for another couple hours, so why wait so long?

It's important? What was so important? Was he getting the promotion he'd been asking for for so long? Was the wait finally over?

Or was it about other things? Like the fact that he continuously insulted Annet in his reports in such a casual way? Was that really important enough to do all this? Was he going to be bitched out today? That wouldn't be surprising. To be honest, he'd been waiting for that for quite a while at this point. He knew it was coming, but he didn't know when. He'd prepared himself for the occasion, though.

Or was it worse? Did their pity finally wear out and they were going to let him go?

If that was the case, then…. He was screwed. Nobody else wanted to hire an unconnectable anymore. At this point, they were deemed basically useless by most of the population.

Well, if he was being let go, then he certainly wouldn't go down without a fight. He'd take advantage of the situation and give Alexander hell, let him know just how he felt about the other man and his treasured girl "Annie". Puh-lease.

* * *

After what has felt like centuries, his shift has ended and he is forced to face the inevitable. For once, he wishes his shift was longer. Not because he was scared of his boss, but rather, he just didn't want to see and have to speak with him. Speaking with Alexander, though he'd only had to do it once or twice, was the least desirable thing in the entire world and beyond. The man's voice made his paperwork seem interesting, and the way he'd talk about his creation was downright repugnant. He'd glorify his magnum opus to hell and back. He once forgot Charles was there at all and had begun waxing poetics about how lovely she was. All Charles could do was sit there and wait until he'd realized he had an audience and go back to talking to him about what he'd called him in there for in the first place- which, ironically enough, was how much Charles had complained about Annet and how he'd better watch his tongue or something of the sort. There was a point that Charles had reached where he'd learned to just let whatever Alexander said go in one ear and out the other without paying it any heed. It made the man more tolerable that way, so he supposed it was for the best.

He drags his feet on the way there and pretends that he doesn't know the way (which he totally did by this point, he'd been to the man's office a few times before after all). Whatever he can do to kill time at this point.

Finally, he's run out of ways to avoid the inevitable, and he is forced to face the music. Pausing in front of Alexander's office, he takes a breath and knocks on the door.

" Come in," Charles hears Alexander say from the other side of the door. He considers bolting for a second before steadying himself and entering Alexander's office.

A part of him is always so surprised by the size of the other man's office. Though it is to be expected, he is always so shocked by how large it is, especially compared to his own.

No wonder he's looked down upon.

" Take a seat." Alexander says, to which he obliges. The other man drums his fingers on his desk.

" So," Charles says, " what's this about?"

" Getting right to the point, are we now, Charles? And after you put this off for- what has it been, now- ten minutes?" Alexander looks at his watch as he says so, and gives Charles a look implying that he knew exactly why Charles was so late. It pissed him off.

" Yeah, whatever. What is this about?"

" Jeez, Charles, don't be so," Alexander chuckles, " snippy."

Was he trying to be especially irritating today? Because if so, he was doing a lovely job so far. He hadn't even been there for five minutes and already Charles was regretting not blowing Alexander off altogether.

" Anyways," Alexander clears his throat, " it's not work-related, which I'm sure is what you were thinking." Charles's shoulders practically sag with relief at that statement. " I'll just get to the point. There's a party tonight. For work. And I hate them. People are always coming up to me and pretending to enjoy my company. Which, I know they don't. I was wondering if you would be interested in going with me. Because if I was with you, then maybe people wouldn't…" Alexander trails off, reluctant to finish his sentence.

" Yeah. They wouldn't talk to you because you'd be with me, the useless unconnectable. I catch your drift, there's hardly any need for pussyfooting." Then, as an afterthought, he adds, " sir."

" Right." Alexander clears his throat. " So?"

" What's in it for me?" Charles asks.

" I don't know. Whatever you want, I guess. So long as it's reasonable."

" You know what I want."

" Oh. Right. That promotion." Alexander says, minor distaste coloring his tone.

" Precisely." Charles says.

" I suppose we could… negotiate further."

" Really? You're that desperate? I never thought I'd see the day where you'd even consider-"

" So it's a deal, then?" Alexander sticks his hand out to shake.

" I suppose it's a deal."

" I'll see you tonight, then." Alexander says as the two shake hands.

* * *

 **Howdy,**

 **TBH this fic isn't new. In fact, I wrote this back in November. It was gonna be for a longer fic I planned on writing, but between loss of interest and college I doubt I'll ever get around to completing it. But I also felt bad for not publishing anything for almost a year! And I didn't want the entire fic to go to waste. So I'll publish the first few chapters, because it _can_ be ended on a certain point. And who knows? Maybe I'll come back to it one day. For now, though, I'm leaving it open-ended and moving on. Sorry!**

 **I've been running low on ideas lately, so hopefully this can buy me some time. Thanks, y'all!**


	2. Chapter 2

The party, like all others of its kind, is in a club, one of the least-professional venues one could go with. They'd rented out the entire place because there were so many people, and whoever managed this tended to be willy-nilly with funds, planning the most extravagant parties and going with the most expensive option because "I have money and I need to be an arrogant ass about it".

Speaking of, _who planned these things_? It definitely wasn't him. If it was up to him, there wouldn't be a party at all. Call him a square, but there was nothing appealing about getting drunk around your colleagues. Seeing your colleagues outside of what was required was unappealing, period. Especially these ones. The ones that weren't gold-digging lowlifes were desperate social-climbers, and the ones who weren't either of those lacked a personality.

So… where did that put him? He supposed he was an outlier. He was rich, there was no need to be a gold-digger. And he was already at the top, so social-climbing was a fruitless deed. And he was certain he had a personality. He could be _fun_! If he wasn't, then he never would have even bothered showing up… or going through the trouble of getting a date.

Speaking of his date, he didn't seem to be having the most fun. Alexander didn't blame him; these parties were overwhelming, especially if it was your first one.

The looks he was receiving from others likely didn't help matters much. The people that weren't blatantly surprised were… horrified? Alexander wasn't fully sure, though that was probably a good assumption. Horrified that Snippy dare show his face, considering what he was. There was a reason why he wasn't invited.

They were all a bunch of petty hypochondriacs, the lot of them. Whatever. They weren't the epitome of social elitists, though they _sure_ acted that way.

" Just ignore them," Alexander mutters.

" Does it work?" Charles whispers back.

" Of course not. But they don't matter."

" That's rude of you to say,"

" No," Alexander speaks in a pointed fashion, " what's rude is that they're treating you like this. They don't even know you!"

" You don't either." Charles points out.

" No, I don't, but _I'm_ not treating you like they are." Charles is silent after that.

" These things are a lot more fun if you get drunk." Alexander says once the silence has become unbearable. " I'll be right back."

" Wait," Charles grabs Alexander's arm before he can stalk off, " we work tomorrow."

" So?"

" Isn't that a bit irresponsible?"

" Oh, c'mon, Charles. Everyone drinks at these things! Live a little!" Alexander elbows Charles in the side and walks off.

* * *

Alexander disappears, leaving Charles standing there numbly, unsure of what to do. He'd never stepped foot inside a club, made damn sure to avoid doing so. Wasn't like he could do much. Although people found his eyes alluring- apparently- being unconnectable immediately gave them cold feet. It was like clockwork, with most if not all exchanges going similarly. He'd stopped being polite a long time ago, telling the person he was unconnectable before they could even introduce themselves. And each time, without fail, they turned away from him. He'd gotten used to it by this point, for the most part.

A sad life he lived, but there wasn't much he could do. It wasn't like he could change anyone's minds about the whole thing. There was nothing he could do to convince anyone to give up Annet just to be with him. _Not when they had the whole world at their fingertips. That was much more important than some poor unconnectable sod._

Alexander returns with a martini in each hand. He hands one to Charles, who takes and stares at it numbly, unsure of what to do.

" To new beginnings!" Gromov says, clinking their glasses together and taking a sip. He pauses when he notices Charles has remained unmoving.

" Oh good G, don't tell me you don't drink."

" I told you not to get me anything. We work tomorrow."

" You're the only person I've ever met who would choose work over martinis." Alexander chuckles. " C'mon, drink with me!"

" I need the money."

" Hm. I suppose you have a point. But you _are_ getting that promotion, you know-"

" I _still_ need the money." Charles states bluntly. " Promotion or not."

Alexander rolls his eyes. " Fine, I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. But I'm sure people'll do a bit less staring if you try to blend in more."

" I sincerely doubt that." Charles replies, " but if it'll shut you up, then fine. I'll drink your damned martini." He takes a sip of his martini, and it takes everything in him to not splutter. Alexander picks up on his uncomfort almost immediately.

" Are you a lightweight or something?"

" No." Charles mutters. " It's just been a while. It's not like I can afford alcohol, and I do what I can to avoid clubs and the like."

" Ah. You're missing out, then."

" Yeah, well, there's not much I can do about that."

" Suppose not." Alexander says absentmindedly. People were _still_ staring. Didn't they have anything better to do? Charles points this out to Alexander, who merely shrugs.

" I'm not surprised. You know, these parties tend to attract the worst people. Most of 'em are social bottom feeders who think they actually have a shot with me. Ha! That's probably why they're staring. Because after being single for so long, they're surprised to see me with _you_ of all people."

" What's that supposed to mean?"

" Oh, you know. Unconnectable. I didn't mean to offend you by saying that."

" I'm used to it." Charles mutters.

" You're used to a lot of it, aren't you?" Alexander says.

" I guess. You kind of have to be, when you're in my shoes."  
" Oh." The two are silent for a few moments before Alexander breaks it again.

" Okay, this conversation bummed me out. Let's talk about something else!"

" Like what?"

" We could shit-talk everyone else here. There's nothing stopping us." Alexander grins.

" That's a bit rude, don't you think?"

" They're all staring at you! And to me, I think that means they have it coming. It's not like they'll know." Alexander says.

" Unless they can lipread. Then they'll know."

" Come on! Do you really think any of them are talented enough to be able to lipread? Be realistic, Charles!"

" I suppose you have a point. And some of the people here _do_ look like hot messes."

" There you go! How about I point a person out to you, and you shittalk them?"

" Okay. Sure. Why not?"

" _Now_ you're being fun. Okay. How about him over there?" Charles follows Alexander's finger, pointing to a balding middle-aged man.

" Oh, that's too easy. He works a few cubicles down from me. Thrice divorced, no kids. Spends his free time knitting sweaters… for his six cats."

" I bet that's what drove all his spouses away." Alexander mutters. " Your turn."

" Okay, how about… her?"

" Hmm… Oh, she's easy. One of my usuals. Spends every party near me, always flirting and buying me drinks. I know what you're after, Darla, and you can't have any!" Alexander side-eyes Charles and winks.

" Who would want to sleep with _you_ of all people?"

" Lots of people, actually. And I wasn't talking about that! I meant my money! I'm loaded, you know."

" Bit cocky, are we?"

" I can afford to be. Anyways, it's my turn. How about… her?"

* * *

" So what do you do outside of work, anyways?" Snippy asks, " do you have friends or anything?"

" I do, though Annie's been taking up much of my time. So I'm not sure at this point."

" Why didn't you invite one of them to come? Not to be rude or anything, I'm merely curious."

" They don't live here."

" Where, then?"

" Most of them are scattered throughout Russia, though there are a few in Monaco and Switzerland."

" Sounds like you just have a bunch of rich friends."

" Yes, though few of them by their own means. Plenty of them just mooch off their parents. There are a few, though, that I know from college. Engineers that joined rival companies."

" Oh."

" Though, there are some from high school that I'm surprised have stuck with me for so long." Alexander says, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck.

" Why's that?" Charles asks.

" I don't talk to them. We've just grown apart is all."

" Oh."

" And our interests have changed. I used to be a dumb teenager, as were they, though I seem to have been the only one to have outgrown that."

" Really now? I doubt you were _that_ reckless. I just don't see it happening."

" Oh, believe me, I was. How about you?"

" I was a dumb teenager too. And I had plenty of stupid friends. They all used to get into trouble, like, all the time."

" I bet you have plenty of stories."

" Yeah, I do. This one time, my friend was dating this one girl that was kinda flaky and had a thing for cheating on people. So she cheats on this friend, to nobody's surprise except for his. So he's all pissed, right? And he proposes that we go and egg her house. So we go do that- well, I don't egg her house, I was just there to drive the getaway vehicle, which was _always_ my job. And we got caught of course, because none of my friends knew how to shut up, apparently." Alexander's laughing at this point, but Charles continues.

" So anyways, the whole _family_ comes out. The parents _and_ the ex-girlfriend. The parents demand an explanation, of course, and their daughter's just _dead silent_ , because if she talked, then she'd have to admit to cheating, which she continued to vehemently deny at this point. So my friend doesn't admit to shit, either. Just bullshits his way out of it. I don't remember what he said at all, but trust me, it was the worst excuse I've ever heard in my _life_. And he had to lie, because do you think the parents are going to believe that their daughter did something so cold? Of course not!" Alexander continues to laugh, but Charles isn't done.

" So then, the mother says something like 'well I hope you're happy, because your parents are _all_ getting called _and_ you're all going to clean up this mess'. The mother was one fiery brod, though I don't blame her in this instance. But anyways, my friend, the dumbass ringleader manages to make it _worse_ , because he starts flirting with the girl's mother, all, 'I'll clean up anything you want, dearest' or something like that. And then the father flat-out knocks him on his ass, because what else do you do in that situation? You can't just stand idly by! And of course our parents all got called. And I was in deep, _deep_ shit."

" Wait, really? That actually happened? Your friend actually tried flirting with her after he'd egged her house?" Alexander asks between fits of laughter.

" Yes!"

" Oh my _God_! That is wild!" Alexander continues to laugh. It is a strange laugh that stands apart from the rest of his personality. Where Alexander was usually so controlled and restrained, his laugh was wild and erratic. It was a side Charles was sure he'd never see again, though he wouldn't mind if he did. He wished that they were friends and hung out more…

Okay. No more alcohol. That statement _alone_ was the deciding factor.

" I never would have taken you for the type to do stupid shit like that."

" Oh, really? Well, I suppose I can understand that. I don't really do much. I don't have the friends anymore, anyways." Charles says wistfully, internally smacking himself for saying more than he wanted to. He shouldn't have gotten drunk, though he wasn't sure how he'd gotten himself this drunk. Well, he wasn't… drunk, per se. Buzzed was a more appropriate term.

" Why not?" Alexander asks.

" You know why."

Alexander sighs. "You must lead a lonely life"

"It's not all bad," Snippy says, "I have a cat."

Gromov sighs once more, though out of pity this time. Grabbing Snippy's hand, he says, " let me show you some of what you've been missing out on."

" Where are you taking me?"

" We're just going to go dance."

" Oh, God," Snippy winces, " how drunk _are_ you?"

" Not very, though I am filled with spite. I want to show these assholes up, so be sure to pretend to be having a _really_ good time, okay?"

Well… this night was shaping up to be plenty interesting.

* * *

"You know," Gromov speaks for the first time in quite a few minutes, " I usually hate parties. They're too crowded and people are always staring at me. But tonight's been fun."

Since they'd started dancing, they'd managed to get progressively more drunk. Charles or Alexander, neither of them could remember, had suggested taking a shot every time they played a slower song. It made things less awkward that way, when the two of them blatantly wanted no part of it. Though neither of them wanted to pretend to be interested in the cliche "swaying to a slow song" type of deal, a few drinks made all the difference. Now they were… somewhat okay with it. Though there wouldn't be enough slow songs in the world to make either of them outright enjoy it.

Regardless, there hadn't been many slow songs playing, so they were still buzzed for the most part. There was one playing now, though, and they'd been swaying to this beat, as awkward as it was. If they didn't, then they'd stand out, and more people might stare at them.

" I hate to burst your bubble, but people are staring now."

Gromov shrugs, " I don't care, now that I have someone to spend the night with."

" They're staring at _me_ , aren't they?" Snippy asks.

"You know what?" Gromov stops dancing and grabs Snippy's hand. He begins dragging the other man off, " let's get out of here."

And Snippy doesn't object, though he _does_ ask where they are going.

Gromov doesn't elaborate further than, " you'll see."

* * *

" It's been ten minutes and you _still_ haven't told me where we're going." Charles groans from behind Alexander, " I'm beginning to get a tad bit concerned."

" Don't worry about it. I told you that you'll see. I can assure you, though, that it's much better than that party." Alexander says.

" I'm confused. If you just asked me to go to that party solely because you didn't want to ask anyone else, why do you still want to hang out?"

Alexander says nothing. He really doesn't have a good excuse, figuring that bluntly saying _because I pity you_ wouldn't be received well. He needed more time to come up with a good lie.

" It's because you feel bad for me, right?" _Always a mind reader, apparently._

" Does it matter? At least I'm not treating you with open hostility."

" Fair point, but I'm not a person to be pitied. I'm fine. I've gotten used to it all, you know. And besides, that promotion'll probably work wonders for me, so thanks. You've done enough." Charles says.

" I've _done enough_? Really now. Is that how you see it? Because if anything, you've done enough for me. I'm merely repaying the favor."

" Yes, but, you're _granting_ that favor. I was surprised when you relented so easily."

" The Dead Zone needs tour guides. It's only preferable if they actually _want_ the job, which not many do." Alexander says.

" Okay, fine. But there are other ways to 'repay the favor', as you claim to be doing."

Alexander abruptly stops, resulting in Charles walking right into him. He turns to face Charles.

" Okay, fine. You caught me. So maybe I like hanging out with you."

" I- what? But you barely know me!"

" I know enough. You're funny. And you actually seem interested in me-"

" I'm _not_. I'm just doing this for the promotion."

" I _know_ that," Alexander sighs. Charles could be really blunt when he needed to be. " but you're… different, I suppose. You can actually hold a conversation with me without getting a vacant look in your eyes. That's not easy to come by."

" It sounds to me like you just have really low standards. Most people look for someone with specific features or traits, but you just want someone to be able to talk to."

Alexander chuckles, " yeah."

" Which, you _could_ accomplish that much with anyone. Or anything, if you're desperate enough. A plant works. And they're pretty cheap, too. Though I suppose that doesn't matter to you, seeing as how you're just _so_ wealthy that you can't seem to _not_ mention it every fifteen minutes." Charles rambles.

Silence falls between the two for a few minutes before Charles sees to break it with a meek, " sorry. That was harsh."

Alexander clears his throat, " anyways. We're here."

" A bridge." Charles says after stopping. " You brought me to a bridge."

Aforementioned bridge had been one he'd seen plenty of times on his way to work, making it even less special. Just an ordinary bridge in his eyes.

" Not just _any_ bridge!" Alexander persists.

" What makes it so special?" Charles replies, unamused.

" The view. _Look_." Alexander extends an arm and gestures to the world around them, " nice, isn't it?"

" I guess." Charles mutters, obliging Alexander's request. It _was_ an okay enough view, though he hated to admit such. And in this day and age, saying a view in Eureka was 'nice' didn't make it spectacular. There was so much pollution that even slightly tolerable views were hard to come by. A nice view just meant that you weren't entirely overwhelmed by the pollution.

" I come here whenever I can. The world gets overwhelming, sometimes. You know?" Alexander's tone suddenly turns serious as he leans against the railing to stare out to the world around them. Charles imitates this action.

" I suppose so, yeah." Charles mutters, shocked by the man's confession. He'd thought Alexander to be the last person to think such things, much less saying such aloud.

It was additionally peculiar how _relatable_ the statement was. Charles figured himself one of the few people who felt such a way about the world. With Annet, people were able to turn away from anything overwhelming or bothersome, opting to instead float above everything in their imaginary protective bubbles. This left those who couldn't or didn't connect in quite an odd predicament. They were the outsiders who didn't see the world through rose-colored glasses. It wasn't enlightening so much as it was terrifying, as they were the sole ones who knew the end of the world was imminent and right upon them, fate's cold claws sinking in for the kill.

Or saw evidence of it, anyways.

" So," Alexander breaks the silence that had fallen between them, " why are you after this promotion so badly? You do know how dreadful the Dead Zone can be, right?"

" Maybe to an annet user like you," Charles says, " but it's different for me. You know that, right?"

" Yeah," Alexander says, " I just don't see what's so great about it."

" Well, for starters, my current job is a dead-end one because I'm an unconnectable. In the dead zone, I can operate by my own schedule and get a good amount of sleep. It's better for me there."

" Oh," Alexander replies. _Well now I_ have _to give him that promotion_. " Well, I'm sorry that you couldn't have seen the world like this sooner."

" Yeah," Charles says, " me too."

* * *

 **I'll be real af bruh I'm so bored I decided to just post this. I was gonna post it tomorrow anyways but I went ahead and updated early. Anyways this is where it ends for now, unless I become interested in this story again. Sorry about that, but maybe my future projects will be better. I'm currently trying to change things up a bit. I started a tumblr askblog for a romac AU I created where Gromov has a daughter. Check it out if you're interested. the url's villageofthree .tumblr .com. Still in the developing phase but if people send in questions I'll commit to it more. Thanks. I'll try to have a fic related to that up soon but idk where to start.**


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